


Horizon

by Merit



Category: The Divine Cities Series - Robert Jackson Bennett
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-15 16:11:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13616934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merit/pseuds/Merit
Summary: Sigrud had been rowing since dawn.





	Horizon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [primeideal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/gifts).



The lake stretched almost to the edge of her vision. Only the dark brown smudges hint that there was limits to the vast, gray water. In front of her, Sigrud was rowing, his sole eye focused on the horizon. She did not look behind her. Sigrud would have pointed it out if Continentals had decided to take pursuit.

There was a light rain falling down on them, and despite the waxed canvas coat she was wearing, the water had found a way through the fabric. Water had soaked her braid, seeping down her neck, staining her shirt. Every so often, Shara would reach out, wooden cup in her hand, and drag it through the water at the bottom of their tiny boat, wood scraping wood. She noted, with a minor degree of alarm, that she seemed to be doing this more regularly than at the start of the journey. As if on queue, the boat creaked and shivered alarmingly, more water seeping through the badly caulked wooden planks.

“Sigrud,” she said, making sure that there was no trace of alarm in her voice. “How far away from the shore are we?”

He grunted and then squinted at the horizon. “A few more hours,” he said, shrugging his great shoulders. He had not rested a moment since they had scrambled into the boat, a horde of Continentals rushing past the small, sandy beach, the torches and pitchforks in their hands a sign of things to come, if they didn’t escape. Shara had clutched the leather satchel close to her chest, nails digging into the soft leather, holding her breath, as Sigrud took ahold of the paddles. “Probably best to wait til night again before coming to shore.”

“Yes,” Shara admitted, shifting on the hard wooden board, her bones had already been aching for hours. She was going to regret these days when she was an old woman. “We’re to meet up with the Ministry’s man at a town called Seybrinka,” she squinted at the horizon. “Two miles of walking through marshy scrubland,” she sighed.

“It will be good to walk again,” Sigrud said, pausing, wiping his forehead where a thin line of sweat had formed. Shara licked her lips. Sigrud had tasted the water hours early before twisting his mouth and spitting it out. He had declared he would have to be more desperate to swallow that.

“The boat will last?”

“It should. I have seen worse boats last longer,” Sigrud said which didn’t exactly reassure Shara. “Not many boats at that village,” he added idly, frowning. 

“No,” Shara said. “This lake didn’t use to exist before the breaking of the Continent. A Saypuri soldier wrote of the earth being sundered, twisting in on itself, swallowing a city. A thousand, thousand lives lost. She wrote of great towers on fire, screams from the windows echoing across the great plain. And then it rained for a decade and the lake was here. No one has gone looking at the depths though,” she murmured, peering over the edge of the boat. “Most of Saypur has probably forgotten this place. Except for my aunt.”

Her brown face flickered back at her in the gray water, ripples from Sigrud’s steady rowing breaking up her reflection.

“I suppose they haven’t gotten used to the lake,” she said.

“No fish,” Sigrud said. 

“There’s no fish?” Shara said. Sigrud shook his head. “Oh. I suppose they don’t come out of thin air. Not unless it was a miracle,” she added darkly.

“The people could have used the fish,” Sigrud said. “Fishing takes time. Keep their mind off of scheming. Feed their children.”

“I’m mention it to my aunt,” Shara said, clutching the satchel closer to her chest. Sigrud was silent and acid burned the back of her throat. She swallowed hastily. 

The dark line of the horizon loomed larger.


End file.
